So anyway, that got me thinking about my writing (or lack thereof). I realized that I have some oldies that I could blow the dust off of and share, so here you go. I might even throw a eulogy in here at some point.
This is a poem I wrote in 2006. It's scarily still quite relevant.
No Back-Up Plan
When love is lost to
confusion
Resentment takes its place
The harsh reality of
stress
Scores a little girls face
The one she always looked
up to
Becomes the source of her
grief
The sun has set on that
time
Leaving her no sense of
relief
Destruction all around her
There is no refuge she may
seek
Alone with her own
struggles
Pain always claws at the
meek
Vulnerable and innocent
Alone she enters into
humanity
To find nothing but grief
To feed her growing
insanity
A lifetime of struggle
Had so long ago began
But it’s now that she sees
She has no back-up plan
This piece was also written in 2006. I suspect my motivation at the time was a job in Human Resources that I had at a school bus and motor coach company. I won't mention any names, but the school bus portion of that company has since gone under. *quiet applause*
Sorrow Tomorrow
Everyday I waste myself
This energy of creation
and rebirth
Is subdued for something
that returns nothing
No satisfaction, no
reaction, do it all again
Tomorrow
And the next day, and the
next
Looking for a couple days
to rest
When I find myself again
Spend my time, rushing for
pleasure
Healing the wounds that
will be opened again
Tomorrow
And the next day, and the
next
Numb what is really inside
Serve for a faceless end
to the means
That gives me the things,
I have no time to enjoy
Because I choose to be a
victim of
Tomorrow
And the next day, and the
next
Slave to a corporation
That doesn't know my name.
It owns my tomorrows
Because I trade. Them…for
a check.
Okay, so this next one is making me blush, as I read it some 7 years after it was originally written. If I remember correctly, this was the prologue to the cheesy romance novel that I never quite got around to writing. It's probably a good thing that I never really started that book; however, it's clear that I still have a pretty active imagination for such things. ;-)
Warmth
I pressed my face close against
the frosted window pain; the warmth of my breath, leaving a cloud of
condensation beneath my nose. As I gazed into the outside world that I had left
for so long, I felt his arms wrap strongly around my middle. His excitement was
obvious, against my plump, bare bottom. Soft brushes of his lips and a day-old
beard caressed the nape of my neck and the tip of my shoulder. A slight nibble
sent shivers down my bare back and I squirmed inside the shelter of his tightly
wrapped arms, turning at once to face my captor.
Without hesitation he drew
his head close to mine and planted his full wet lips upon my slightly agape
mouth. A warm rush filled my blood as his enormous tongue forced its way into
my mouth, claiming the space as his own. I responded in a similar language,
returning the trust with my own tongue, feeling the intricacies of teeth and
mouth. A large hand, then another, slid from my waist, down to the crest of my
bottom, cupping it with playful force. One quick pull and I was balancing on
his waist, wrapping my moist thighs around his middle; his bulging muscles, my
only grip against a warm back, dripping with sweat.
He continued to kiss me
with strength and passion as I slowly slid downward to my final resting place
upon his manhood. The thick sensation filled me at once, as I prepared to make
him my own.
Whooo! That was hot!
This last piece (for now) is one I'm particularly delighted to find. I had forgotten about it and it makes me smile. I'm still trying to figure out how I knew, 16 weeks into a pregnancy where I didn't find out the gender of my baby until birth, that I would have a daughter? Maybe I later edited this... Jury is still out.
.(an edited excerpt from my MySpace blog – dated November 3, 2006)
I understand that there are things that happen in this world that I can do nothing to change...but does that mean I should let those things bother me any less?
There seems to be this "death alley" area on a local road near my home. Everyday I drive through "death alley" on my way to and from work and everyday it seems there is something else dead on the ground. The dead usually consist of the ever-popular road kill candidates, possums and raccoons...but lately there's been cats, deer, bunnies and even trees that have been cut down to make way for a subdivision or some extra power lines or some such "progress".
I guess the dead cats bother me the most. I've been a cat lover my whole life and it saddens me to see these poor helpless animals smashed to bits on the road. Is there anything I can do, aside from not running them over myself? I'm afraid not.
What bothers me maybe even more than the fact that these animals are being killed, is the fact that they remain on the road for days and days after their demise. Maybe the road kill clean-up crew was the first to go with the county budget cuts, but it would be nice if someone could remove the poor things from the road...at least to spare the hearts of sensitive viewers such as myself.
I've often thought about what I'm going to tell my daughter someday when she asks me why dead animals are on the road in the first place and why no one picks them up and buries them in a nice cemetery somewhere. What do I say? Do I tell my child that animals' lives aren't as valuable as humans' lives and no one really cares about the dead raccoon that's been run over about 300 times, until all that's left is a streak of blackened road and a few tufts of fur?
Somehow I don't think I'll be able to desensitize her that way. But what will I say? How will I explain that the reason all these animals are running into the road in the first place is because we're destroying their homes to build condos and office buildings? All the noise and destruction from bulldozers and front-end loaders are scaring the poor animals away from their familiar habitat and into the path of speeding motorists. How do I explain this to my daughter without her wanting to just cry...cry for the animals?
Maybe I need to write a book about it. Does a children's book make a problem go away? No, but I guess it helps explain something to our children in a way that only a book with colorful pictures and characters can. So I guess that's the answer to my problem. Write a book about the things that piss me off and maybe then I'll feel better about it.
Someday.
And I file that one right next to that trashy romance novel I'm still writing in my head! :-D
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